


Borrow The Moonlight

by PumpkinWrites



Category: RWBY
Genre: Costume Descriptions, Flirting, M/M, Masquerade Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 12:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14472696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinWrites/pseuds/PumpkinWrites
Summary: Ozpin loved masquerade balls. The mystery in the air. The glamour dusted over the assembly that seemed so out of place in the world beyond the ballroom walls. He also found masquerade balls comforting. Everyone was on equal footing: no one was more or less important than anyone around them when they went unidentified. Who and what you were did not matter quite as much as at a gathering of unmasked people.





	Borrow The Moonlight

Ozpin loved masquerade balls. He always had, ever since he could remember. The mystery in the air. The glamour dusted over the assembly that seemed so out of place in the world beyond the ballroom walls. He also found masquerade balls comforting. Everyone was on equal footing: no one was more or less important than anyone around them when they went unidentified. Who and what you were did not matter quite as much as at a gathering of unmasked people. They were one of the things that had remained a constant facet in popular culture ever since entering into it, though that presence was more or less relegated to fiction and romantic daydreaming these days.

Leave it to James Ironwood to make a habit of pulling them back out of fantasy and into reality.

James himself had been the only person to talk to him so far tonight, his mask giving the flawless appearance of being made of silver. The swirled and uneven edges almost allowed the lines between mask and skin to blur and blend together like the seams between his prostheses and his organic half. The slight accents of bright blue only served to aid in the attempt to make his mask match the concealed cybernetics beneath his well-tailored attire. He hadn't lingered for very long, however, breezing politely away to greet a pair of white-haired individuals as they descended the stairs into the ballroom, his companion close behind him.

The entire point of masquerade balls was not to be able to immediately identify someone else. It added to the mystery. He remembered a time when they were accused of promoting immorality solely because of the possibilities that arose from being able to freely address those around you, without being expected or required to adhere to any normal sense of etiquette. But he supposed that some of that original intent had been lost over the years, people knowing each other and expressing themselves better so that their individual style was highly recognizable, even though their faces were obscured. James' partner, for instance: though formal dress looked out of place on his brawler's frame, the shades of gold, brown, and yellow that he had come dressed in did not. The colors suited him, to be sure, nearly as much as the mask on his face, with its meticulously-crafted horns and scales. However, it still left no question as to who was beneath the dragon mask, though that may also have been from the way he remained no more than an arms' length away from James at any given moment.

Another example, Ozpin had worn variations of the exact same outfit each and every time he had attended a gathering like this, changing only what was required to fit the current style, or to suit the complexion he was working with at the time. Tonight, it was black pants, a dark green dress shirt, and a black vest with green lapels, fastened with gold buttons. His mask, though, had never changed: an emerald-colored leather creation that extended to the bottoms of his cheekbones, delicate black filigree spiraling in abstract clockwork and gear designs across the right cheek and the right side of his forehead. That distinctive mask had been the main reason that he took more care than normal to avoid being captured in any sort of images, photographs or videos. While his face was not always the same when he showed it at an event like this, that mask was.

Roughly three waltzes into the evening, Ozpin was finally discovered lurking near the foot of the stairs by a man whose unmistakable red eyes glittered out from beneath the black of his laughably-appropriate mask. The headmaster really had to admit, Qrow Branwen cleaned up very well, the darkness of his shirt and pants contrasting nicely against the gray brocade of his vest and the fairness of his skin, the dark red cape making the whole effect far less jarring. Ozpin was surprised to notice that the end of it was not in tatters, clearly he'd obtained a new one for this evening.

"I don't think we've met."

The carved feathers on his mask became that much more visible, their outlines dipping beneath the surface of the leather and revealing them to be carved in rather than built up, as he tilted his head, and his easily-recognized rasp of a voice further served to confirm his identity. The older man smiled as he realized that the very ends of the feathers seemed to take on the slightest green tint as they caught the light. The beak that extended slightly downward, past the end of Qrow's nose, did not hide the cosmetically-emphasized lips, curled in their flirtatious little smile.

Ozpin, however, merely chuckled. "You do seem quite familiar, but I'm not sure I know anyone who looks quite as enticing as you do."

He adjusted his mask with a rather coquettish smile of his own, before wrapping an arm around the dark-haired man's waist and pulling him close, taking his hand with his free one. Ozpin's eyes traced over Qrow's mask again, smile twitching a bit broader in amusement. Part of him honestly wondered if James or Taiyang had spied Qrow yet. He must have been trying to be witty with his choice of mask: there was no other explanation for it.

"Perhaps it'll come to me after a dance."

"Tempting, but… I don't dance." Despite what he said, Qrow's hand found Ozpin's shoulder. "And maybe I'm not sure I _want_ you to know who I am."

"Do you really have so little faith in me?" Ozpin chuckled, breaking the hold he had on Qrow in order to reach up and take the younger man's chin with one hand. Amber eyes narrowed in mock-concentration, as if he were actually studying him. "Hmm. A little too small to be a _raven_ , I think. So that must mean I've caught a Qrow. But then, that isn't much of a costume for you, now is it?"

He twisted his wrist in order to turn Qrow's head slightly to one side.

"Still. It suits you."

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this as an ask on my Ozpin roleplay blog, but I loved the original version of it so much that I just had to bulk it up and post it. Qrow's last lines in the fic were actually originally written by tumblr user falcecru, who I highly recommend checking out.
> 
> A large chunk of this fic is just basically costume design porn and I regret nothing about it. I actually drew up a prototype version of Taiyang's mask, that's not a joke.
> 
> Oh right, uh, this fic contains mentioned IronTai but it wasn't tagged because it wasn't relevant. Other characters who are technically mentioned include Jacques and Winter Schnee, as this is set around Winter's final year at Atlas Academy, just before her inheritance passed to Weiss.
> 
> Addendum: Yes. Qrow is wearing lipstick. His eyeliner is also on point. Let him be a pretty bird.


End file.
